


Lost Boys Like Me

by fordk004



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: M/M, Peter Pan | Malcolm is not Rumplestiltskin | Mr. Gold's Parent, cursed peter pan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-23
Updated: 2020-12-23
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:27:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28269861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fordk004/pseuds/fordk004
Summary: "All children grow up, or they die, or both. All children, except one. But that's not really true anymore, is it? So tell me, Pan, will you grow up, or will you die?He had wished upon that second star every night. Had wished and wished and wished. It turns out dreams do come true, if only we wish hard enough. You can have anything in life if you will sacrifice everything else for it. Sometimes it might even be worth it.He's meant to save Neverland from itself. He's meant to defeat the shadow and return Neverland to the place of childhood dreams and wild things. He learns the hard way that sometimes Heroes live too long. That sometimes they keep going until they become the villain. That sometimes you have to blacken your heart in order to reach your goals.
Relationships: Captain Hook | Killian Jones/Peter Pan | Malcolm, jefferson mad hatter/peter pan
Comments: 2
Kudos: 5





	Lost Boys Like Me

**_CHAPTER ONE - THE CURSE_ **

_Jaunty pipe music echoes throughout the hall, off the tall glass windows and the shining marble floor. The music seemed to slither through the air and settle like dust within a sunbeam, perpetuating the room in a drunken haze._

_David stumbles into the hall with his hands pressed over his ears._

_The source of the music isn’t immediately obvious. His view is blocked by wedding guests. They’re dancing and laughing, some in their small clothes, others completely in the nude and David feels himself flush red and he averts his eyes. The guests hardly seem to care. They didn’t seem to notice his presence at all._

_He’s reminded of the bewildering saying he had grown up hearing but only now began to make sense of: sometimes pipe music was worse than rats._

_The couple before him dance out of his vision and allow him to see the pipe player at last. He was laying on his back on the alter, one leg bent and the other crossed over his knee and his hands were holding the pipes up to his lips. He hesitates to call him a man as he appeared to be younger than David himself._

_“Oi, who’re you then?” a voice suddenly exclaims, loud enough that David hears it despite being muffled by his hands._

_The music stops._

_And so do the guests._

_They stand perfectly still and blank-faced, all the life and movement drained out of them as the last note fades. For all that the debauched dancing had made David nervous, this still silence was worse. He had never seen people so motionless before._

_The man who spoke is still dressed. His clothes are dark and modest, the cuffs and neck laced up tight. He has red hair and dark eyes and a vicious looking scar going from his chin to his temple._

_David’s eyes don’t stay on him for long, they’re drawn immediately back to the pipe player._

_He’s on his feet now. He’s small standing on the alter, his green cloak falling of her shoulders, but the weight of his grey-green eyes on David make him feel like he was filling the space._

_David lowered his hands._

_“You must be the Pied Piper,” he says. His voice comes out steadier than he was expecting it to._

_The boy smirks, a slight thing that doesn’t meet his eyes._

_“Must I?” he asks, laughingly._

_He steps down from the alter._ _He carries himself like he’s half air, as though a mere breeze could lift him off his feet. At the same time, something about his movements raises the hair on the back of David’s neck. They are not just familiar – they are the footsteps of a cat slinking casually toward a wounded bird._

_The man who spoke moves to meet him and stand at his back, and he’s not the only one, three other men joined them. Other than the green clad Pied Piper, they were all clad in dark clothes and their expressions were not dissimilar to those David saw on the bandits that periodically raided the nearby villages._

_“And since you seem so familiar, who might you be?” The Pied Piper asks._

_Perhaps for anyone else someone know you without you being able to say the same it would put them at a disadvantage, but David had the suspicion that the Pied Pipe had never been at a disadvantage in my life._

_“I’m David,” he says and tries not to think about the horror stories he heard growing up about what could happen if you gave your name to those who’s music enchanted you to dance. “I followed rumours about where to find you. My family’s farm has fallen on tough times and we’re unable to pay the taxes to keep it going. I have come to ask for your aid”_

_The Pied Piper raises a brow, but worse still was the glance the four men at his back shared before they burst into raucous laughter._

_“You’ve sought out the Pied Pipe to ask for aid?” a slight man with a funny sweeping moustache asked. “Are you mentally deficient or a fool?”_

_David flushed, but he held his tongue._

_The Pied Piper seemed to have already decided the answer to that particular question. “Calm Henrik,” he said, his head was tilted as he looked at David consideringly. “He may be a fool, but he’s a brave one.”_

_He steps forward and past them. The movement brings him slightly closer to David, who resists the urge to step back. The Pied Piper goes over to a sack a couple of feet away. He roots around for a moment. When he finds what he was after, he turned and threw it to David. David flinches, half expecting it to have been a knife, but he still catches it out of instinct. He looks down and his eyes widen when he realises that it’s a coin purse. A very heavy coin purse. He fumbles to open it. Every coin inside is gold._

_Looking about the hall he sees various other sacks strew about. All looking stuffed, some with jewels and expensive gowns spilling out. This wasn’t just a cruel enchantment like David had first thought, this was a robbery in progress. He closes the coin purse and his hand tightens on it._

_“You know,” The Pied Piper says, watching him with that same cleverly curious gaze, “That gold will only last so long. You could join us and you would never want for money again?”_

_“Him? What good could he do us?” the red head who had first spotted David sneered._

_“Orlant.” For the first time the Pied Pipers voice was sharp, and the red head flinched back._

_David didn’t need to stop to consider. He already knew he would never, ever join a crew like this. It took longer to decide about the money. He wondered if it was his already or if there was a price to play. He looked about all the wedding guests. They were still stock still, jewels and clothing and dignity stripped from them._

_Did he want to be this sort of man._

_He held the coin purse tight against his stomach for one longer moment, before in a burst of movement he threw it at the Pied Piper’s feet._

_“I want nothing from you,” he declared, he forced himself to look into the grey-green eyes. “You’re despicable. I will find a way to get the money for my farm a different way. An honourable way”_

_The crew members looked half offended and half laughing. The Pied Piper however still only looked curious. It was unnerving._

_“Do you really believe that?” he asked._

_“I do”_

_“And do you, Snow White, promise to take this man to be your husband, and love him for all eternity?” The Bishop’s voice echoed about the hall._

_“I do,” Snow smiled._

_Snow looked beautiful. Her dark hair was piled intricately atop of her head, white flowers stark against the black strands. Her white gown hugged tight to her torso and flared out amidst swan feathers. But none of that was what made her look so beautiful. Snow looked beautiful when caked in mud and rags. What made her look so beautiful today was the sheer happiness on her face, like she had been cracked open and the pure glow was emanating from within. Her pale cheeks were flushed and rosy, her smile wide and her eyes hadn’t left Charming’s face since she entered the hall._

_“I now pronounce you husband and wife”_

_The crowd began to clap and cheer. In front of him, Doc nudged grumpy in the side to encourage him to clap too, which he did without much convincing. Peter raised his fingers to his mouth to let out a sharp whistle. Red laughed and Granny reached around her to give him a sharp poke in the ribs and a quelling look. Peter grinned and went back to clapping._

_He doesn’t think he could stop smiling if he tried. All the joy and the merriment that filled the room seemed to seep deep inside and take rest within him. He felt full and happy and he thinks he would like to keep hold of this feeling forever._

_Snow and Charming leaned in close to share their first kiss as a married couple, only to jerk apart as the huge wooden door to the hall opened with a crash._

_Gasps and cries echoed amongst the crowd. Even without the loud entrance, the dark leathers she adorned and the dramatic sweep of khol around her eyes made her stand stark against the guests crowded within the room. Her very presence pierced the warm glow before she had taken more than a step within the room. Peter moved his body to further cover the little girl on his right, who, upon the Queen’s appearance, had fisted her hand in Peter’s green cloak and huddled closer._

_“Sorry I’m late,” the Queen said, beginning to cross the room, her heels echoing loudly in a room that had since fallen deathly silent._

_She had gotten half way to the centre of the hall where Snow and Charming stood atop of the alter before the guards seemed to come to their senses and make a move towards her. It did little good as they scarcely managed a few steps before the Queen through them off their feet with a wave of her hands. There were cries of alarm as the guards were flung back into the people closes, one or two fallen too while other stumbled back and were caught by those stood behind them._

_From in front of him Doc ran forward, looking at Snow desperately, “It’s the Queen! Run!”_

_Peter held tight to the pipes resting on his belt, watching Snow and Charming closely for a sign of how to continue. His body was still angled in front of Grace, who was pressed close to his back, Red had a tight grip on his left arm and Granny in turn was holding on to her._

_Snow reach to pull the sword from Charming’s him and she brandished it towards the Queen._

_“She’s not a Queen anymore!” She announced. “She’s nothing more than an evil witch!” she was trying to mask it but there was a shake to her voice. Whether it was out of fear or fury, Peter couldn’t quite tell._

_“No, no, no, don’t stoop to her level, there’s no need” Charming said. Snow allowed him to take the sword from her grip and lower it. Peter thought it would have been much smart to allow Snow to run her through. “You’re wasting you time,” Charming said to the Queen. “You’ve already lost.” He took a threatening step forward. “And I will not let you ruin this wedding”_

_A nice sentiment of course, but the fulfilled warmth had already been broken and Peter could see on everyone’s faces as they looked at the queen with fear and huddled and pressed back to put distance between themselves and the source of evil in the room, that this dark spot had already marred the memories of the day._

_The Queen looked unimpressed._

_“Oh, I haven’t come here to ruin anything,” she said. He voice was benign and polite but Peter’s insides clenched in preparation for a fight. Nothing about her presence set you at ease. “On the contrary, dear, I’ve come to give you a gift”_

_“We want nothing from you,” Snow snapped as soon as the words were out of the Queen mouth. Snow’s hand was gripped tight at Charming’s elbow._

_“But you shall have it,” the Queen snapped back. “My gift to you,” she said turning to survey the room with a curved lip. Everyone her eyes passed over turned their faces so as to not meet her eyes. The dwarves pressed further back so as to not be any closer than necessary and it forced Grace, Peter, Red and Granny to huddle closer together. “Is this happy, happy day.” She moved back to stand before Snow and Charming. Snow tipped her chin up defiantly and Charming glared. “For tomorrow, my real work begins. You’ve made your vows, now I make mine. Soon, everything you love, everything all of you love, will be taken from you. Forever. And out of your suffering will rise my victory. I shall destroy you happiness, if it is the last thing I do”_

_Peter shared a fearful look with Red and Granny. This was bigger than they ever thought it would be. From his back, Grace let out a whimper and through her arms around his waist. Peter wrapped the arm not in Red’s grasp around her shoulder and pulled her close. He allowed the fear to thump its painful track through him for one moment before he gritted his teeth and glared at the Queen._

_The Queen turned and began to leave, her cloak trailing dramatically in her wake._

_“Hey!” Charming shouted quite suddenly._

_The Queen whirled around and with a grunt Charming through his sword as hard as he could in her direction. As it got to where the Queen stood, it passed harmless through a mass of black smoke, the Queen already gone. Those beside the isle cried out at the display of magic so close to them and Charming’s sword thudded harmlessly into the wood door._

_Snow and Charming held each other close, their eyes not leaving the spot where the Queen once was._

“I had a meeting with Wilhelmina today,” Beth Tinsley says. She’s clad in a pencil skirt and a pretty blue blouse and holding a clipboard against her chest. Her dark hair is held back in a loose bun, only staying up due to the pencil sticking through it.

Benji, Becky and Beatrice groaned collectively. Fiona paused in where she was stirring the stew she was making for the kid’s dinners.

“What did the ice bitch want?” Becky asked her sister. She was elbow was leant against the table and the way she had her chin propped on her hand seemed to be the only way she was keeping her head open. She had already been tired and hung over when she showed up at work this morning, now, at 2.30 she was really crashing.

“That’s our boss so watch your mouth,” Beth said sternly, though Benji noticed she didn’t seem at all offended on their boss’s behalf. “And she wanted to talk about the budget. Mr Gold upped the rent again,” she says. Everyone gives Benji a side eye and he dropped his gaze to his hands. “We’re barely scraping by and we need to put some things in place to save money.”

“Upping the rent on an Orphanage just seems wrong somehow,” Beatrice says, frowning.

“What do you mean somehow? He’s profiting of Orphan kids, its very clear that it’s wrong,” Becky says, rolling her eyes.

“Wrong or not, the rent is higher and that’s that. You need to have a talk with the kids about being more careful with their school uniforms, we can’t afford to keep replacing them,” she tells Beatrice and Benji.

“We’ll talk to them,” Beatrice tells her sister and Benji nods, still feeling meek.

“I can help mend the smaller damages, any rips or anything,” Fiona offers kindly.

“Thanks,” Beth gives her a smile, rare when she’s talking about something serious like this. “From no one, you’re also going to have to walk the kids to and form school instead of them taking the bus, we can’t afford the travel cards anymore”

Beatrice and Benji shared a grimace but nodded.

“Finally…” she hesitates her and the others all shared a look. Beth was very well spoken and only tended to pause like this when it was bad news. “We might have to start cutting your hours”

For a second they’re all quite.

“What?” Benji says, surprised.

“What do you mean cutting our hours?” Beatrice asked carefully. “By how much?”

“During the day most of the kids are at the Ophanage and we don’t need the both of you to look after two kids,” Beth says, gesturing over to Missy and Liam, who, at four and one respectively, are the only two kids young enough to not be in school. “It’s different for the night staff because all the kids are in, Becky is the first aider and we’re legally required to always have one so that leaves…”

“Us,” Benji says. He heaves a sigh, slumping back in his chair and sharing a grim look with Beatrice.

Beth doesn’t look happy about it, but she also doesn’t look cowed.

“Maybe we can save more money another way,” Fiona says, looking worriedly at Benji and Beatrice. “We could get cheaper ingrediants for the food, I’m sure if I budget better I can make some cheaper meals”

“Thanks, Fiona,” Benji says, giving the older woman a small smile.

“Yes, thanks, that may help,” Beth says, but she says it in the tone of voice of someone who knows it won’t be enough. Beth looks between Benji and Beatrice, both of whom are looking down at the table with vaguely worried expressions.

“Look, I’ll keep crunching the numbers. Hopefully it will only be temporary,” she says briskly but not unkindly.

Benji nods, but the worried look doesn’t clear.

He’s not sure how he will cope with the pay that will come with cut hours when he needs to pay his own rent and support himself and his roommate. He looks over at Missy and Liam who are playing in the wooden doll house in the corner. They’re laughing as they pretend to drive the little wooden figures through the house on the back of a hotwheels.

As much as he’s worried about himself, he’d much rather the cut back effect him rather than the kids.

They may get in trouble from time to time, some more so than others, but they’re not bad kids. Some of them were at the orphanage because their parents had died, but they were in the minority. Most were simply given up. As he watched the children laugh, he couldn’t help but wonder what it was that gave people the ability to give a child up.

_“I say we fight!” Charming slams a fist down on the table to emphasis his point._

_The round table of Snow and Charming’s closet allies was full. Three of the dwarves to Snow’s left and four of the knights to Charming’s right. Gepetto was flanked with two knights on either side and Granny was sat between the two groups. Red and Peter hovered at Granny’s shoulders._

_From his perch on the table beneath a magnifying glass Jiminy piped up, his voice amplified by the horn beside him, “Fighting is a bad idea. Giving into one’s dark side never accomplishes anything”_

_Peter shook his head and exhaled disparagingly. “Oh yeah?” he said, resting his hands on the back of Granny’s chair and leaning his weight onto it. “Tell that the all the tyrannical Kings that still rule their empires of blood”_

_Charming scoffed and gave Peter a quelling look. “I’m not saying we become some sort of tyrannical rulers who will do whatever it takes, but how many wars has a clear conscience won?” Ruby looks down, shifting her weight onto her other foot, lessening the space between her and Peter. “We need to take the Queen out before she can inflict her curse”_

_Peter flexed his jaw. Trust Charming to find a way to disagree with him even as they argue the same point._

_“Can we even trust Rumplestiltskin?” Doc asked._

_“No,” Peter answered immediately. “He’s a monster. Everything he does is in his own self interest. The only thing we need to trust is that it’s not in his best interest to get cursed”_

_Charming nodded. “I’ve sent my men into the forest and the animals are abuzz with the Queen’s plan.” Charming put both hands flat onto the table to lean forward and meet everyone’s eyes. “This is going to happen unless we do something”_

_“There’s no point,” Snow spoke up for the first time, neck craned so that she can look at Charming’s profile. “The future it written”_

_“So we fight anyway!” Peter exclaimed, looking at Snow, confounded. In all the time he had known her, even as she lived in a hovel in the woods and scavenged for food, he had never seen her look so defeated. He didn’t care for it._

_“To what end?” Snow asked, looking at him with that weird, tired look she’d been sporting more and more recently. “What reason is there to fight if we’re going to lose?”_

_Peter shook his head, face indignant._

_“Who needs a reason to fight?” he said. He couldn’t imagine a situation in which he didn’t fight tooth and nail. “You fight to fight”_

_At this Charming looked at him incredulously._

_“Of course you need a reason to fight. You would send men to die for no reason?”_

_“Either you die on your feet with a sword in your hand or you cower before an unknown curse, what’s the difference?”_

_Charming exhaled loudly with a look that was somehow both disbelieving and completely unsurprised._

_Peter bristled, rankled by the clear judgement. His fingers twitched, but his dagger stayed strapped to his side. Granny paused in her anxious knitting to reach over her shoulder to put a hand over Peter’s. Whether it was comfort or warning he couldn’t be sure, but forced his shoulders to relax either way. He was going soft._

_“No, I refuse to believe that. Good can’t just lose” Charming denied, shaking his head._

_“Yes it can,” Snow said and she turned to look listlessly out the window. Her voice was soft and tired and that was worse than if she had shouted and raged._

_“No,” Charming said again. For the first time since the meeting began he sat back down in his seat, his body facing Snow as he reached to take her hand. Snow turned her gaze from the window to meet his eyes. “Not as long as we have each other. If you believe him about the curse then you must believe him about our child. She will be the saviour”_

_If there was any one trait of Charming’s that Peter would maybe, under extreme reluctance and duress, admit to admiring, it was his conviction._

_They all turned as one as the heavy wooden door to the room opened loudly. Charming stood from his chair._

_“What the hell is this?” he demanded._

_Guards, decked in their armour, were dragging a huge tree trunk into the room. It was a foot over their heads and three men wide. The Blue Fairy fluttered past them to approach Charming, her magic making the air around her tiny form glow serenely._

_“Our only hope for saving that child,” she said. Her voice was calming and pleasant in a way that made Peter dislike it on principle._

_His fingers twitched on the back of Granny’s chair again. He made no motion to move or speak, though he didn’t take his eyes off of the Blue Fairy. He knew only weak minds allowed their opinions to be swayed by others, but a certain level of loyalty dictates that his opinion of the Blue Fairy always carries a dark spot._

_“A tree?” Grumpy demanded incredulously. “Our fate rests on a tree? Let’s get back to the fighting thing”_

_“The tree is enchanted,” the Blue Fairy explained. “If fashioned into a vessel it can ward off any curse.”_

_Interest piqued, Peter appraised the tree with more care. He realised, quite suddenly, that he had seen trees like this one before. Only they had been hollowed out and dead, bark blackened and any magic long gone. He had never seen one living, he had certainly never seen one cut down, he didn’t think anyone would fell such a thing, certainly not a fairy. His eyes snapped to the Blue Fairy and he swears she met his gaze for just a second. She knew he knew._

_“Gepetto,” The Blue Fairy said, turning to the man in question. “Can you build such a thing?”_

_Granny went back to her anxious knitting and everyone turned to Gepetto, waiting, breathless, for his answer._

_“Me and my boy,” he said, reaching down to his right to rub at Pinocchio’s head, “we can do it”_

_“This will work,” The Blue Fairy said to Snow. Snow’s mouth dropped open and unrestrained hope flushed her cheeks pink. Charming smiled down at her as she reached to hold one of his hands in both of hers. “We all must have faith.”_

_Snow’s teeth bared in a smile, the first one Peter had seen from her in a while._

_“There is however, a catch,” The Blue Fairy continued and, still holding hands, Snow and Charming turned to look at her, smiles still lingering on their faces. “The enchantment is indeed powerful, but all power has its limits, and this tree can protect only one”_

_Their smiles were gone now._

_Peter reached for Red’s hand._

“I’ve worked out another person”

Benji looks down at Henry and gives him a look that’s half dubious and half amused. “Oh yeah, and who’s that then?”

“Archie. He’s Jiminy Cricket”

It’s said with such complete and utter conviction that it takes a moment for Benji to register it, but when he does he can’t quite help the initial burst of sputtering laughter that escapes him. He smothers it as soon as he clocks Henry’s displeased look.

“Oh, right sure, that makes sense,” Benji nods, sagely. “You know, in so much that it…doesn’t. Isn’t Jiminy Cricket a, y’know, cricket?”

“In the Enchanted Forest, yes,” Henry says, “the Blue Fairy granted his wish to become a cricket so he could be free and properly follow his conscience and help Gepetto.”

Not quite how he remembers the story going, but sure.

“Right, Gepetto, who is Marco,” Benji says instead, recalling the last person Henry said he had worked out the identity of.

“Right,” Henry nods with a grin, seemingly pleased that Benji is keeping up. “But here, he’s a man again, it’s all part of the-”

“-curse, right,” Benji interrupts with a grimacing smile.

It seemed everything in this town could be explained away by the curse in Henry’s eyes. Clock doesn’t work? Curse. Mom is distant and cold? Curse. Mom, seems to despise sweet and kind teacher? Curse.

Henry stops walking at the gate to the Mayor’s house and Benji gets two steps down the path before he realises and has to stop and turn to face him.

“You don’t believe me,” Henry says, squinting up at him with a wry twist of his lips.

Benji sighs. “Henry…”

“Do you remember when my mom asked you to look after me?”

Benji blinks at the abrupt change of subject. He shakes his head and lets out a huff of incredulous air.

“Erm,” he swallows, trying to get his bearings back. “Yeah, of course I do. It’s was at the playground. I was passing on my way to the Orphanage”

Benji had only been walking by and had seen the Mayor trying desperately to console a sobbing four year old, who was sat in the sand, huddled over his knee and staunchly refusing to let the Mayor even look at it. Benji had come over and convinced Henry to let him see his scraped knee. He had pulled a plaster from his pocket and put it on the graze and told him that it was simply a battle scar and that they were the sign of a brave hero. He can remember Henry looking up at him like he had done something amazing. Mayor Mills had told him then, in no uncertain terms, that he was now Henry’s babysitter, no matter how much he protested that he didn’t have time around work.

“So you worked at the orphanage,” Henry says. He’s looking at Benji slyly, as though he’s made some breakthrough and Benji narrows his eyes.

“Yes, why?”

“Because you’re twenty five and I’m ten, so were you working at the orphanage when you were nineteen? You didn’t have to go to college?” he asks.

Benji blinks again. It’s hard to think. He tries to remember more clearly how that day had gone, but it’s exactly how he had said. He had been on his way to the orphanage. Maybe he hadn’t been? Maybe he was on his way to somewhere else? His head was hazy and was starting to hurt. He scrubs a hand across his face.

“I-I don’t know, Henry,” he says wearily, suddenly very tired. “I must just be misremembering”

Henry looks disappointed.

“That’s okay,” he says. “It’s okay that you don’t believe me now. I’m going to prove it”

He turns to make his way up the path to his front door.

“And how are you going to do that?” Benji calls from the gate.

“You’ll see,” Henry grins over his shoulder as he unlocks the door and goes inside.

Benji looks at the closed door for a long moment, his head still throbbing.

_The guards’ eyes began to droop as the first slow, clawing notes reach their ears. It didn’t take long for the music to settle like exhaustion on their bones and they fall into deep, uncomfortable sleeps, slumped to the ground where they had been stood._

_Peter stepped over their prone forms, grabbing a torch from the wall to light his way as he stashed his pipes back into the pouch at his belt._

_Despite the torch, the stone passage remained dark. Like all the light was getting sucked up and eaten before it could do you any good. Peter stormed forward quickly, his footsteps, for once, loud and harried._

_Rumplestiltskin was stood waiting for him, his scaled hands curled around the spiked bars trapping him. His dark eyes fixated on Peter as soon as he was close enough. He looked at him hungrily, as though he needed to take in the sight of him as quickly as he could. Peter refused to let it make him feel uncomfortable._

_“The satisfaction I feel at seeing you caged like a rabid animal is indescribable,” Peter says, his voice comes out even more venomous than he intended._

_“And you’ve come to gloat have you?” the imp says laughingly. “Tell me that I’ve got what I deserved”_

_“You deserve so much worse than this,” Peter answers, voice quiet and seething. “You know why I’m really here. You know what I want”_

_“Do I?” Rumplestiltskin asked, dancing away from the bars with a laugh. “And what’s that?”_

_“I’ve been searching the Dark Castle for days,” he says, taking a step forward. “Where is it?”_

_Rumplestiltskin taps a finger to his chin as though he’s thinking and then gives a funny little giggle as he shrugs._

_“Tell me where it is!” Peter bursts, throwing the torch. Whatever dwarven forged magic exists on the bars extinguishes the torch with a fizzle as soon as it makes contact and the wood clangs harmlessly against them and rolls across the floor._

_It’s even darker now. Only the shine of Rumplestiltskin’s eyes is clearly visible._

_“Tell you what, laddie,” the word burns and Peter’s lip pulls up in a snarl. “I’ll tell you where it is, if you work your magic,” he wiggles his fingers and comes to press his face against the bars, more of his features becoming visible in the dark, “and get me out of this prison”_

_Peter shakes his head and takes a step back. His lip twitching like that of a feral cat._

_“You’re lying,” he says, his voice shakes, with what he’s not sure. “You wouldn’t ask for that if you really meant it. You don’t want to get out of your cage”_

_“Why would I not?” the imp asks, his voice is laughing, and he’s looking at Peter hungrily again, as if begging him to prove how clever he is. Prove it. Prove it. Guess my plans._

_Peter shakes his head again. Trying to predict the reasoning of the dark one is not a rabbit hole he is going to let himself fall down again._

_“All I know is, you’re exactly where you want to be”_

Benji liked to imagine that one of these days he wouldn’t be disappointed. In fact, one of these days, he wouldn’t turn up at the restaurant at all. Today clearly wasn’t that day. He checked his watch again. His father was forty two minutes late and counting. He pretended he couldn’t see the looks the staff were sending him. This was the fifth time he had sat in _this_ restaurant only to be asked to leave when it hit the hour mark and he hadn’t yet ordered. The first time it had happened the staff had been sympathetic, let him stay longer, they had no doubt thought that his date had stood him up. By the third time sympathy had to turned to pity and now, at the fifth, pity had turned to exasperation. They scoffed and shook their heads like _good God, when is he going to learn?_

Not that he could blame them.

He slumped back in his chair and idly picked up the knife beside him. He tilted it up and looked at his tiny reflection. _When are you going to learn?_ His reflection looks as lost at the question as he felt.

A phone began to ring. It took him until the man at the table closest to him cleared his throat and said, “you going to get that?” to realise it was his own. He flushed in embarrassment and quickly scrambled to pull his phone from the pocket in the blazer hung on the back of his chair.

“Hel-”

“Where is my son?” a sharp voice cut him off.

“Mayor Mills,” Benji sighed, slumping forward so that his elbows rested on the fancy table clothed covered table.

Disappointed yet again. Why did he even begin to think it could be his father calling to explain his absence when he never had before? He rested his forehead against the heel of the hand not holding his phone. _When are you going to fucking learn?_

“Congratulations, you have correctly guessed who I am by the sound of my voice,” remarkably the voice had gotten ever sharper. Or perhaps just louder. It was hard to tell. “Now, where the _hell_ is my _son_?”

“Henry?”

“No, my other son. Of course Henry! Where is Henry?!”

Brain finally beginning to catch up, Benji felt his heart tremor in his chest. Mayor Mills was scary on a good day, when she was angry she was downright terrifying. Benji couldn’t stand it when she was angry.

“He’s not with you?”

“Are you some sort of idiot? Have you somehow lost even _more_ brains cells since we last spoke? If Henry was with me, why on _Earth_ would I be calling?”

“N-no, I just meant-” he took a deep breath to gather himself. “I just meant that I dropped Henry off at home straight from school”

“Well, he’s definitely not here now,” came the Mayor’s taut reply. “You better hope I don’t find our you’re lying to me, because if I deem you too irresponsible to look after children, well, I don’t suppose you’ll find any more work in this town”

Benji pales and takes a moment to find hi vice. “I swear, I dropped him off home. I even watched him go inside”

The Mayor harrumphs. “Well, this conversation was just a waste of my time then, wasn’t it?”

Benji opens his mouth to apologise, but apparently the question had been rhetorical as the next second she hung up. He spent a moment staring down at his phone with furrowed brows. He felt vaguely sick in a way that had nothing to do with Mayor Mills being angry and everything to do with Henry being missing.

He looks up and sees the manager of the restaurant on her way over to him with a look of exasperated anger.

“Don’t worry, I’m going,” he says loudly, quickly shrugging on his blazer and standing to leave.

_Grace is already crying when he gets back to the room._

_She’s sat on the edge of the large canopy bed, her knees pulled up to her chest and arms wrapped tightly around them. Her face is red and blotchy and strands of her brown hair is getting stuck uncomfortably in the tear tracks._

_Peter cruelly wants to leave her to it. The world is a cruel place and all children cry, but Peter goes to kneel in front her anyway._

_“Grace,” he says her name in a way that demands an explanation. Perhaps it would be kinder to be gentle and comfort instead of ask why, but Peter had never been kind._

_“It’s coming,” she whimpers, but she meets his eyes, tears pooled and still falling. “And he’s not here. He’s not going to be here”_

_Peter’s teeth clench and his fingers fist in the silken sheets on either side of her._

_“No,” he agrees._

_“What if it gets him too, wherever he is…what if,” she voices a thought which is perhaps just as terrifying, “What if it doesn’t?”_

_Peter shakes his head._

_“Then it doesn’t,” he says._

_He has no words of comfort. He’s not one for rosy lies and false promises, but he is brave. He can be that for her. If nothing else, he can be brave for her._

_She sobs, though she tries to hold it in. She sniffs and shakes the hair out of her face. He watches her as she gathers herself. She’s already so much stronger than she was._

_“Can we go back?” she asks. “Can we keep looking?”_

_He hesitates._

_“Until the end”_

_Grace cries herself to sleep._

_Peter starts packing._

For once, Benji is already awake when he gets the call at 2am.

He’s still in the sweats he sleeps in when he goes to the Police Station, though he had his green pea coat pulled on over them. He’s made this trip far too many times to worry about what state Sheriff Graham saw him in.

“Hey! It’s my mate, Ben! Heyyyy Benji,” Nate slurs with a sloppy grin as he leaned against the bars of his cell. He reached through them as though he could give him a hug, but quickly seemed to loose the energy and they fell back down to rest on the bars instead.

“Hey, Nate,” Benji says quietly, he comes close enough that he can tap a finger against Nate’s brow. “I’ll sort it out real quick and then get you back home okay”

Nate hums and grins at him, eyes not really focusing. He moves to perch on the corner of the cot, just enough room for him to sit without touching Leroy, who was passed out and snoring. It made Benji sad to look at him sometimes so he turned to walk back to Graham’s desk instead. Graham was looking at him pityingly. He always hates when people do that. As though he was the one going through something awful having to put up with Nate, and not Nate battling, and often losing, against his addictions. Losing more and more of the care free joy he had when they had met.

“Hey, Graham, thanks for calling me,” he says tiredly.

“Wish I didn’t have to,” Graham says. He looks at Benji’s tired and drawn face with a worried furrow between his brows. “I still think you’d be better off leaving him to stew for the night. You bailing him out constantly and picking him up as soon as he gets brought in won’t make him learn”

Benji smiles thinly. He doesn’t think either of them believes that Nate will ever learn.

“It’s fine,” he says not really lying. “I was awake anyway. I’ve got a mess at work and with my dad, and then everything with Henry…what even happened? Where did he go? You text that he was back home but you didn’t explain at all”

Graham heaves a sigh. “Well…” he looks over Benji’s shoulder.

Benji turns and for the first time spots someone in the adjoining cell. She’s pretty from what he can see of her, though half her face is covered by her blonde hair. She’s clad in tight jeans and a red leather jacket and one of her hands is curled up close to her face as she sleeps quietly.

“Who is that?” he asks. “Did she take Henry?” he demands.

“No, no, nothing like that,” Graham says hurriedly. “Well…no, nothing like that. Apparently, she’s Henry’s birth mother”

Benji blinks.

Whatever he had been expecting, it had not been that.

“What?”

Graham gives him a look to say that he knows exactly what he’s feeling.

“He hopped on a bus all the way to New York and brought her back with him. Shows up later, storms passed Regina, saying that he’s found his real mom”

“I bet the Mayor was thrilled,” Benji says quietly, more to himself than to Graham, but Graham snorts anyway. “If she didn’t take him, then what’s she doing in here?”

Graham shrugs.

“She must have shared a drink with the Mayor that was stronger than she thought, she ran right into the town sign as she was leaving,” he says.

Benji hums and looks over at her disapprovingly. Benji works at an orphanage, he knows how it sits on a child’s heart when a parent gives them up. He also knows that sometimes it’s for the best. That all the parent will do is hurt them if they were left in their care. This woman wasn’t off to a good start and he really hoped, for Henry’s sake, that she at least left him with a fond memory before she left again. And she would leave again. They always do.

“Benji, can we go home yet? I feel sick,” Nate says, his voice weak and sad.

Benji shakes his head and looks back at Graham. “Right, how much do I owe you this time?” he asks, reaching for his wallet.

Graham shakes his head. “Consider this one a freebie”

“Graham I can’t let you do that,” Benji says, already feeling guilty. The last thing he needs is for Graham to get in trouble with the Mayor for not doing his job.

Graham shakes his head again and gives him a small smile. “I mean it, it’s fine. At the rate you’re going the whole department will be funded from you alone.”

“Are you sure?” he asked, reluctant, playing with the leather of his wallet in his pocket.

“I’m sure,” he says firmly, grabbing his keys to let Nate out of the cell. He pauses as he’s unlocking the door. “Just, make sure to take care of yourself too, not just him,” he says, concerned.

Benji hesitates and then nods.

_It was Charming and Snow at the door when he opened it, not overly surprising seeing as it was their castle, but it wasn’t very often that Charming accompanied Snow on her visits to see him._

_“Are you going somewhere?” Snow asks, looking past him into the room and at the packs that were slowly getting filled with food and clothing._

_Peter shrugs. “I figure we’ll go back home, get out of the eye of the storm”_

_“You’re running,” Charming says incredulously. “I thought you said you would fight just to fight”_

_“I don’t run from anything,” Peter snaps, glaring darkly._

_“Right, you just slaughter and steal and use your pipes to enchant people to do whatever you want,” Charming says, his face pulled in disapproval._

_Peter bristles and Snow elbows Charming in the side, giving him a stern shake of the head._

_Charming sighs. “Look, maybe you’ve done despicable things and maybe if I didn’t know any better I’d think you still didn’t have a heart in your chest, but-”_

_“We’re trying to ask for you help,” Snow cut in._

_Peter gives a sardonic smile. “Well, you’re doing a brilliant job of it”_

_Charming opens his mouth angrily, but Snow put a hand at his elbow and all the fight seems to drain from him at once. Seems somebody is on a tight leash. Peter gives him a laughing look and Charming glares._

_“The curse is coming,” Snow says, “we can’t stop it. The only way we can save our baby, save everyone, is for me to go through the wardrobe. Regina is going to do everything to stop that from happening. Her men are on their way here. We know they are. We need all the help we can get to stop them in their tracks”_

_Peter sighs and shakes his head minutely._

_“You know I love a good fight, but I have a kid to look after,” he says. It’s a painfully mature thing of him to say, even if it’s not entirely honest, and his fingers clench at his sides as a wave of intense bitterness pools at the pit of his stomach._

_“We’re aware of the risk that we’re asking you to take,” Charming says. “But you would be doing it_ for _her. Isn’t it worth it, to fight for her? To make sure there is a_ chance _that she gets out of this safely”_

_Peter looks over his shoulder at Grace sleeping in the large canopy bed. She looks peaceful. She had been so excited to be staying in the castle, but now the novelty has worn off and all that was left was the terror of what was to come. This was longest she’d slept in a while without waking up with a nightmare. For all that he had agreed, there was nothing to find at the Dark Castle._

_He turns back to Snow and Charming, shoulders back, eyes hard and grin sharp. “What do you need me to do?”_

_They smiled, relieved._

They hadn’t quite worked out how to share the work load yet so Benji was left running errands and looking after Missy and Liam, while Beatrice walked the rest of the kids to school. Normally one of them would stay at home with the two little ones while the kids got the bus to school and the other would run the early morning errands, but with the added work without the kids being able to take the bus, Tommy’s inhaler and Jack’s ADHD medication to pick up, and Missy’s doctor’s appointment at 8am it was left for them to divide and conquer.

“Can I have this?” Missy asked as Benji put Liam’s pacifier back in his mouth when he started to cry.

Benji turned to see that she was holding a candy bar, and looking up at him with wide blue eyes. “Not this time,” Benji said.

“Pleeease?” she whined.

“Missy,” he said more firmly. “Not this time” He took the candy from her hand and put it back. She pouted and Benji has never been more glad that she’s not a child that’s prone to tantrums.

“The prescriptions are ready,” Mr Clark said, sniffing. “That’ll be ninety-five dollars” he says ringing it up.

Benji pulls the envelope containing the Orphanage’s fund from his coat pocket and handing over the bills. He reaches to grab the paper bag from Mr Clark only to snatch his hand back as he sneeze violently.

“Sorry,” Mr Clark says stuffily, pulling out a tissue to blow his nose. “Allergies”

Benji isn’t sure what allergies he could be suffering from in the middle of October while indoors in a sterile shop, but he gives a grimacing smile as he gingerly takes the bag, avoiding the damp spots.

“Thanks,” he says. “Come on, Miss,” he adds as he turns the buggy and notices that Missy is still lingering by the candy. She heaves a put upon sigh that makes Benji snicker and follows him out of the store.

He’s just closing the door behind him when he spots her.

It wasn’t that she looked unusual or that there was anything about her that particularly caused her to stick out, but there were so few newcomers in Storybrooke that Benji’s gaze unwittingly caught on her immediately.

She was stood a couple of feet away, looking caught between going right or left at the crossroads.

“Are you lost?” Benji called before he really stopped to think.

She whirled around.

She’s prettier when she’s not lying in a cell. Her top is slightly wrinkled, but the wind had blown out her hair enough to get rid of any frizz that came from sleeping rough and despite having been there due to drunk driving she didn’t have bags under her eyes.

“Oh, erm…kind of. I’m looking for a castle?” she said, putting her hands in her back pockets as he came closer. She raised her brows curiously at the kids, but didn’t comment when she looked back at him.

Benji frown.

“A castle?” It takes him until he sees the large leather bond book she’s holding under one arm to put it together. “Oh, you’re looking for Henry”

She looks surprised. “Yeah I’m er…”

“His birth mother,” he fills in as she seems to stumble for an explanation.

“Does everyone just everyone just know this now?” she burst out.

Benji drops his gaze awkwardly and clears his throat. “Oh, erm, no. I was at the sheriff’s station last night? Well, this morning. Really early this morning. You were still…not that I watched you sleep, obviously, just…” Benji sighs and tries to calm himself. “Graham told me, is what I’m trying to say”

“Right,” she smiles, seeming to take his awkwardness in stride.

They’re both quiet for a beat.

“The castle is left and then the second right, you’ll be able to see it,” he says.

“…Thanks”

Benji watches her walk away and hopes that he wasn’t making a mistake by directing her to Henry. Some people gave up their children for a reason.

_He hears the hoof beats before he sees them._

_“Going somewhere?” he calls as soon as the first few soldiers round the corner._

_He tilts his head as he looks at them, leaning casually against the horse at his side. He thinks it’s more from bewildered surprise than anything that causes them to stop in their tracks, the countless others at their back having no choice but to do the same._

_They were all wearing identical black armour, dark iron helmets hiding their faces so that one could not distinguish one from the other. Even the horses they road were all black. Alone perhaps they would simply remind you of the lone statues of historic soldiers, but all together they were like the dark, faceless enemy out of terror stories._

_Peter wasn’t afraid._

_“Step aside,” The soldier at the head ordered._

_Peter spared him a curious look and didn’t move._

_“Step aside,” the solder said again. “Before we cut you down”_

_“Cut down an unarmed man?” he asks. “The Queen certainly wasn’t looking for chivalry when she built her army”_

_Peter couldn’t see his face, but he liked to imagine that the comment made him angry. The soldier flicked his fingers in a signal to the soldier to his right._

_The second soldier pulled a dagger from his hip, aimed, and threw._

_Peter didn’t flinch, though he did stand up straight. In the second it took for the knife to reach him, it had become a ball and Peter caught it with one hand._

_Peter looked down at the ball idly, when he looked back up there was something mean playing at the corner of his lips._

_He drew his arm back and through the ball back, not at the soldier that through the dagger, but at the soldier that had given the order._

_The soldier spluttered and gurgled. Mid flight the ball had turned back into a knife and was now buried, up to the hilt, in the soldier’s neck right in the gap between his helmet and chest plate. The blood could not obviously be seen because of the dark armour, but there was an unnatural wet shine as the spray of blood splattered down his front. The soldier slumped forward on his horse, it took almost no time at all for him to die._

_The soldier at the front, who bore witness to the display of violence, exclaimed in shock and anger, their horses shifting on their feet as their riders tugged at their reigns._

_There was a familiar echoing, sharp snick of multiple swords being drawn at once._

_“Who are you?” the soldier that had thrown the dagger demanded._

_Peter grinned._

_“Tell me, lad, do you like music?” he asked, lifting his reed pipes to his lips._

_“It’s him!”_

_“It’s the Pied Piper!”_

_“I thought he was a myth!”_

_“Block your ears!”_

_Peter’s grin widened and his green eyes glinted cruelly. He began to play. It was a fast paced melody, the notes loud, sharp and often. The ground before him shook and quivered and the soldiers were forced to draw their horses backward as it cracked open completely. Arrows from unseen soldiers further back were loosed, but they were blocked as the trees from either side of the dirt road reached out their branches in aid. They extended and grabbed at the branches of the trees opposite, twisting and interlocking, tree bark creaking and splintering as they knotted together._

_The song teetered off and Peter lowered his pipes. The_

_The only sounds left were the furious yelling of the soldiers and the hacking of swords at trees. The forest had moved to his will and created a solid barrier between them._

_Peter grinned._

_He had almost forgotten what the thrill of a victory felt like._

_He let loose a wild laugh as he swung himself atop his horse and kicked it into a canter back towards the castle, his green clock splayed out on the wind behind him._

“Are you coming out tonight?”

Benji had barely come up to the counter when Ruby plonked his to-go order in front of him. Benji slid the take out box closer to him and eyed his best friend warily.

“Out where?” he asks.

Ruby’s red lips split into an easy smile as she leans on the counter, taking some of her weight off of her feet. Benji had no idea how so coped in those heels all day, only to go out at night too.

“Just to the Rabbit Hole,” she said. “Becky’s coming. You in?”

“I thought you went out last night?” Benji says, avoiding the question.

Ruby sighs, her smile dropping as she straightens up. “We’re young, Benji, it’s not unheard of to go out a couple of nights in a row. You could stand to have some fun you know”

Benji bits his lip and fiddles with the flap on the take out box, avoiding her eyes. He hates saying no to Ruby. He hates saying no to anyone, but especially to Ruby.

Perhaps she seems to sense that he was about to cave when he really didn’t want to because she says, “Speaking of, have you seen Nate today?”

He looks back up at her. “No, I left the apartment before he woke up, why?”

“Well Leroy heard from Georgia, who heard from Marcel, who heard from Mr Morris that he didn’t show up at The Magic Bean today.”

The Magic Bean was a coffee shop in the middle of town owned by Mr Morris. Mr Morris was a lovely old man who had soft spot for those who are lost and looked down on. Benji had great respect for him. He was also one of the few people in town who hadn’t yet given up on Nate and allowed him to work for him even as his attendance was spottier than his criminal record.

“I picked him up from the station at 2am this morning,” Benji admitted quietly. “I thought he’d just sleep it off”

“Oh, Benji,” Ruby sighs and puts a hand on his. She hesitates. “I know he doesn’t like the idea of it, but Archie-”

“Ruby!” Granny snapped. “There’s customers waiting. Chat on your own time”

Ruby scowled and hissed through her teeth, turning her head to glare at her grandmother. “None of my time is my own time,” she muttered.

Benji gave her a sympathetic look as she went off to take Marco’s order.

Benji lowered his eyes and held his take-out box close to his chest as he left so that he didn’t have to see Granny’s disapproving look. He knew why she didn’t like him. Didn’t mean it didn’t hurt.

The apartment was dark when he got home. There was only the yellow glow of the living room lamp offering any light. He pauses on the threshold when he sees Nate slumped on the couch. One foot was on the ground, while the other was stretch out on top of the arm. His right hand was curled around the neck of a bottle of vodka. There was only about a shots worth left inside and there was another empty one on the coffee table.

Despite the fact that a bomb could probably go off without Nate waking, Benji kept his steps quiet as he hung up his coat and put his take-out order into the fridge, no longer hungry.

He grab’s Nate’s blanket from his room and drapes it over him softly. He gently removes the bottle of vodka from his loose grasp.

“Dream well, Nate,” he whispers as he turns of the lamp.

_His boots slap loudly against the stone floor as he barrels down the corridor, for a moment he has to hop awkwardly on one leg lest his momentum send him careening past the turning. There are a couple of guards in the adjoining hallway, their black chest plates punctured with crossbows. He steps over them to get to the door at the end of the hall. He knows quickly three times followed by a pause, another knock and –_

_The door is thrown open and Peter almost hits Granny in the face as he goes to knock again._

_“I hadn’t finished the secret knock!” Peter protests as Granny pulls him inside by the wrist and slams the door behind him. “I could have been anybody”_

_He grunts as Grace throws herself in his direction, her arms wrapping tightly around his waist._

_“You came back!” she exclaims, voice muffled against his chest._

_He wraps his arms around her and learns forward to rest his chin atop of her head. “I promised I would,” he said, his eyes squeezed shut as they both tighten their grip and he lets himself bask for a moment at having her safe in his arms. For just a moment, it almost feels like he could protect her._

_When he looks up, Granny is retaking her vigilant spot on a chair in front of the door, crossbow loaded and ready in her arms._

_“Where’s red?” he asks._

_“Helping,” Granny says. Peter catches sight of the red cloak hanging on the back of another chair and understands._

_“Has Snow gone through the wardrobe yet?” he asks, moving further into the room so that he and Grace could sit at the two chairs left beside the desk in the corner._

_Granny looks at him grimly and Peter stiffens._

_“What?”_

_“She went into labour an hour ago,” she says._

_“But the wardrobe-”_

_There’s loud clanging as the bell from the tower on the other side of the castle is rang. It’s Grumpy’s signal._

_Peter stands quickly from his chair and moves to the window. Any view of the scenery in the distance is blocked completely by an impenetrable black cloud. A magical curse billowing towards them at great speed._

_“It’s here,” he says, his voice shakes._

_What a horrible thing, he thinks, to see your defeat coming towards you and knowing there’s absolutely nothing you can do. You can’t fight, you can’t run, what bravery is there to be found in an outcome you can’t change?_

_Perhaps realising that any danger the could come through the locked door was nothing compared to what was already on it’s way from the Queen, Granny left her post to stand beside him and watch the curse approaching. He couldn’t stand the fear on her face. Granny was and is the strongest woman he knows. Fear did not sit right on her features._

_“What is that?” Grace gasped. She’s crying and Peter pulls her close to him._

_Peter shakes his head._

_“Something evil. Something darker than I have ever seen before” he says._

_It was upon them. The walls were shaking, cracking, crumbling. Peter yells and Grace screams as part of the ceiling collapsed with a crash near where Granny had only just been sitting. He hugs Grace close and leans back into Granny’s strong arms._

_They were going to be okay._

_They were going to be okay._

_Sometimes all you needed to win was to believe that you would._


End file.
